Dumbledore's Letter: Twist of Fate Verse
by OakStone730
Summary: Harry and Draco have been together for three years when Harry finally decides to read the letter Albus Dumbledore wrote to him years earlier. Second Epilogue to Twist of Fate. Contains Spoilers to Twist. Pairing: Harry/Draco. A gift to Adigium21, in much thanks, for her lovely translation of Twist into Spanish.


A few months after finishing Twist, I started working on this story. It's taken nearly fourteen months, but I'm finally ready to post it. Dumbledore's Letter is a Christmas gift to Adigium21 who has been diligently, and very carefully, translating Twist into Spanish. It has taken her months and months and she is just two updates away from being done. It thrills me greatly that she deemed Twist worthy of all her time and effort, it is much appreciated. Merry Christmas, Adigium21! XOXOXO

This should be considered a second epilogue to Twist of Fate, and takes place eighteen months after the first epilogue. In the tradition of most of Twist of Fate, it is unbeta'd.

******OoOoOoO**

**Marks & Co Bookstore Proudly Announces**

**Author Harry Potter**

**Illustrator Draco Malfoy**

**Will be available to sign copies of their newest book**

_**Charlie and the Lost Dragon Eggs**_

**Saturday, 15 December 2002**

**2 - 4pm**

**OoOoOoO**

"I'm glad this is the last one of these," Draco said as he scowled at the mirror, looking dissatisfied with the effect of the chocolate brown colored leather jacket with his cream cashmere sweater.

Walking up behind him, Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's waist. Resting his chin on Draco's shoulder, he studied their reflections in the mirror as Draco fussed with his blond hair. It could as well be the _Erised_ mirror, Harry thought, for there was no doubt in his mind that he would see the same reflection in both. There wasn't anything more that Harry could ask for in his life. For a moment he felt a flash of pity for Dumbledore, contentment wasn't found in wool socks, contentment was this - loving and being loved.

Together, he and Draco had traveled the difficult-painful-road of repairing the damage that the Delere had done to Harry's memory fabric. They had finished final session eighteen months earlier and only then had Draco agreed to move in with Harry, sharing 12 Grimmauld Place with him, Andromeda, and Teddy.

"Tell me again why we agreed to do the book signings?" Draco asked as their eyes met in the mirror.

"Don't know, honestly." Harry shrugged. "Luna talked us into it somehow, behind that zaniness of hers she is a publishing super-agent. I'm starting to think she should have been sorted into Slytherin."

"We would have eaten her alive," Draco said with a fond laugh that made Harry smile, Draco understood Luna better than anyone. The bond formed between the two blondes during the dark days at the Manor was one that Harry could have been jealous, but wasn't, he was too grateful that it had given them both the strength to survive.

"Well, speaking of being eaten alive - do we need to go through what you can and can't say, again?"

With a roll of his grey eyes, Draco drawled, "Don't say Muggles, don't say the dragons are real, and don't use Cruciatus on the Muggles mothers who flirt with you."

"They flirt with you, too," Harry objected.

"Just because they see me first, once they get a glimpse of Mr-oh-you're-eyes-are-so-green-Potter, they cast me aside like a broken wand."

"They do not, they flutter their eyelashes and ask breathlessly, 'However did you learn to draw so well, you're so young.'" Harry countered easily.

"Feel free to hex anyone who gets too close."

"I don't think I have anything to worry about, besides I like meeting the Muggles who are reading the books, the children especially. They are coming to meet us because they like the books. They aren't just buying them because of who we are."

"You don't mind it because you like people," Draco said, as he turned to face Harry.

"So do you, you big faker." Harry slipped his hands under Draco's jumper, feeling the heat and muscle, and wished that it wasn't almost time to leave. From the way Draco sucked in his breath and pushed against Harry, he'd had the same thought. "I bought you some new markers, just for today."

Draco pulled back. "You did?"

"I did." Harry laughed at the look of delight on Draco's face. Draco had fallen in love with Muggle markers at their first book signing when Luna had told him firmly that he could not sign books with a quill and had presented him with a marker. Draco was fascinated by how they came in an almost endless array of colors that did not have to be spelled and never left drops of ink on the paper.

"Can I see them?"

Harry summoned the Sharpies from where he had hidden them in the wardrobe. Draco opened the bag and discovered not one but two packages, one thick and one thin, in an array of colors.

Draco took the cap off of one and held it up. "These things make me rethink all of my opinions about Muggles. They really are amazing."

"Really? I seem to recall your protests when Luna tried to get your to use them last year."

"Yes, well, that was before I actually drew with one," Draco said as he slid the cap back on the marker and put both packets in his jacket pocket.

OoOoOoO

Two hours later Harry smiled and waved good-bye to the young Muggle boy and his mother; the boy already had his nose in the book, reading the first page of _Charlie and the Lost Dragon Eggs_ as his amused mother steered him away from the table.

Looking around, Harry took a moment to appreciate the store that was filled with Christmas shoppers. It was still hard for him to believe that he was in a Muggle bookstore on Charing Cross Road, autographing copies of a book that he'd written with Draco Malfoy. A few years ago he'd never been able to predict this would be his life.

He gave a quick glance at Draco, as much fuss as they'd made when they'd found out that Luna had committed them to book signings in Muggle bookstores, it wasn't bad. They got to be together and no one knew them as anyone other than the creators of the Charlie books. Draco's comfort level was showing in that he'd pushed the sleeves up of his sweater, the Dark Mark was clearly visible, no one here would think of it as anything more than an unusual tattoo.

Draco opened up the next copy of the book and started drawing a Horntail on the title page with a few swift strokes of his Sharpie. Draco nudged Harry with his knee. "Come on, Potter. We don't want to be still doing this at midnight."

Harry laughed and took the next book. "What would you like it to say?" he asked with a brief glance at the man standing in front of the table.

"How about, 'Uncle Vernon, I made it without you. Harry."

Harry's hand froze and he slowly looked up to see familiar blue eyes. "Dudley!" Harry stood with a delighted laugh and reached across the table to shake hands with his cousin whom he hadn't seen in nearly three years. Dudley must have lost three stone. "You've changed, I hardly recognized you."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Dudley said to Harry, with a glance at Draco who had stood up, giving Dudley a curious look.

"Draco, this is my cousin, Dudley."

"Dudley Dursley?" Draco said in surprise.

Dudley nodded reluctantly, his smile fading. "Guilty, I'm afraid."

"The son, obviously, he's not his father. I've told you, he's changed," Harry put his hand on Draco's back, reassuringly. He didn't talk about the Dursleys very often with Draco but he knew he'd told him about how Dudley and his mother had come to Hogwarts for the memorial service after the final battle was over.

"What brings you here? Your father isn't here, is he?" Harry could feel how tense Draco was and knew it wasn't the time or place for a conflict with Uncle Vernon.

"No, not likely. I just saw that you were going to be here and couldn't resist coming by."

"I'd like to catch up with you , Dudley, but we have to finish this thing." Harry nodded towards the line of curious customers who were waiting, impatiently holding their books to be signed. "We have about another hour. Can we meet you for a pint after?"

"Sure, I'll do some more shopping and meet you outside," Dudley said, and he gave a nod towards the book. "I meant it about your book. I fully intend to give it to my father for Christmas. Sign it however you like."

Harry looked down at the book and shook his head. "Let me think about it, I'll sign it when we meet up later," he said as he handed the book back to Dudley.

Draco let out a tense sigh of relief as Dudley walked away. He turned on Harry. "Did you know he was going to be here?"

"No, of course not. But it is okay, I told you he came to see me a couple years ago to play Quid- erm, football last year." Harry gave a glance at the woman who was standing next to him. He put his hand reassuringly on Draco's shoulders. "Let's just get through this, we can talk after."

Draco shrugged away from Harry. "One hour and then we're done." With that he sat down and flipped a book open.

Wondering how Dudley and Draco would get along, Harry bit his lip nervously as he sat back down and forced himself to focus on the book-signing.

OoOoOoO

Despite the interruption from Dudley, the signing had gone quite well. Harry had been intimidated when they had first walked in and seen the stacks of books that the manager had put on the table. It had seemed unlikely that that many people would show up, but there were only a few copies left sitting on the table next to them.

The manager rushed over as they stood up after the last person in line walked away. Harry shook his hand. "Thank you for having us, I'm surprised the turnout was this good."

"Your first book was so popular we knew that if we put a big advert in the papers that people would come. I must say the way that you write about dragons, they almost seem real. And the illustrations are, of course, amazing," the manager said to Draco. "This close to Christmas people are looking for something special and your book is just the thing."

Harry headed with Draco towards the entrance but before they reached the doors Draco took Harry's arm and pulled him into a nearby aisle. "What do you think your cousin wants?" Draco asked, glancing around to make sure no one could hear them.

"Have no idea. Why don't we ask him?" Harry had been surprised by Dudley's appearance, but not concerned. He'd actually been feeling guilty as Christmas was approaching that he hadn't reached out to Dudley again after he'd come to see Harry play Quidditch. It had happened shortly before he and Draco had gotten together and Harry had gotten so caught up with Draco and the memory treatments that he'd pushed thoughts about Dudley and his parents aside.

"Do you trust him?" Draco put his arms around Harry in a loose embrace, "Odd that he showed up without trying to contact you at all in the past two years-"

"And I haven't bothered to contact him. I doubt very much that he'll have reverted back to his old horrible self." Harry touched Draco's face, rubbing his thumb soothingly over his jaw. "Let's just go meet him, see what he has to say."

Draco adjusted the collar of Harry's black wool pea coat. "If it's what you want, but I won't promise not to hex him if he invites us to your aunt and uncle's for Christmas."

Harry flinched at the thought of going back to Privet Drive, "Never. I don't think he would even try, and there's no way I'd enter Uncle Vernon's house ever again."

Draco gave him a skeptical look but allowed Harry to lead him outside. Even though it was just after four in the afternoon the winter sun was already set and the street was lit with Christmas decorations that were draped from building to building across the street. Dudley was waiting near the store entrance, his breath sending puffs of white into the cold air.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Dudley," Harry said as Draco had draped his arm over Harry's shoulders. "Do you know of any pubs nearby? I don't know this area," he asked as he saw Dudley taking in Draco's hand casually resting on Harry's shoulder. He had no idea where his cousin stood as far as homosexuality, but he wasn't about to hide the fact that he and Draco were together.

"It's cold enough that we won't want to walk far, the Coach and Horses is just around the corner," Dudley said, "Or, there are some more posh places."

"No, that sounds fine," Harry said with a glance towards Draco who gave a shrug. Package-laden shoppers were fighting for space on the pavement with the office workers who were streaming of out the buildings, all intent on getting home and they were forced to walk single file behind Dudley and soon found themselves in a traditional style pub with a small public room and a dining room on the floor above.

It was already crowded, Dudley offered to go to the bar to get their drinks while Harry and Draco looked around for a place to sit. Harry managed to catch a table in the corner just as a party stood up to leave. Draco slid in next to Harry, looking around curiously at the Muggles. Dudley returned, holding three carefully balanced pints and slid into the chair across from them.

Dudley took a sip of his beer before saying anything. "Couldn't believe it when I saw in the paper that you were going to be doing a book signing. Didn't think it could possibly be the Harry Potter that I knew, and had to come to see for myself. How did you end up writing a book? When I saw you last you were playing for that Quidditch team." Dudley pronounced Quidditch very carefully, trying to not stumble over the word.

"I had to stop playing because of injuries and then Draco and I started seeing each other. One thing lead to another and somehow we ended up doing the book. Draco is an amazing artist," Harry said with a glance towards Draco who still hadn't said a word. Harry put his hand over Draco's that was tapping restlessly on the table.

"So, you two are..." Dudley looked from their hands to Draco and back again and flushed, "I didn't realize that..."

"That he's bent?" Draco asked with an arching eyebrow. "Do you have a problem with it?"

"Draco-" Harry started to say, but Dudley interrupted.

"I could care less that you are gay." Dudley swallowed hard before continuing, "But, I understand why Draco would be concerned. You obviously know that I was a bully and a right bastard to Harry. If I'd known he was gay back then I probably would have been even crueler."

"If you had been able to catch me," Harry said with a laugh, hoping to diffuse the tension.

"True. I was too fat by the time we were teens to catch you, had to resort to ambushes."

"Harry said you've changed. Which is good because I can't imagine him being friends with the Dudley that used to torment him like that. What changed?" Draco was leaning back in his chair but Harry could feel how tense he was as he ran his hand along Draco's arm. Draco was still over-protective, Harry thought, the side effect of months spent at St. Mungo's undergoing the memory treatments, and the relentless fear that something would happen that would make him lose Harry again.

"Of course, Harry's told you about me, and I know why you'd be suspicious." Setting down his glass Dudley looked at Draco, his blue eyes sincere, "It took a year of hiding from those Dementors and Death Eaters to change me. The realization that the lives of thousands of people was resting in the hands of Harry; and knowing that before he went off to fight Harry was still able to look past everything I'd done to him and shake my hand."

"I didn't do it alone, you know that, fighting Voldemort or shaking your hand. You seemed genuinely worried about me that last day," Harry said as he remembered the chaos of that last day with Dudley's parents on Privet Drive.

"It was too little, too late, considering that I made the first sixteen years of your life pure misery." Dudley gave a shake of his head.

"It is in the past," Harry said. "I'm all for leaving things in the past." Draco gave a choking laugh and Harry smiled at him, threading his fingers through Draco's that were resting on the table top.

Dudley set his pint down and gave a motion towards their joined hands. "Did you two meet at Hogwarts?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, we used to see each other at school, but with everything that happened, it didn't work out. We started going out again over two years ago and we live together now." Draco snorted but didn't contradict Harry's simplified version of the truth.

"That's great." Dudley looked at Draco. "I mean it. If you've known Harry that long then you know exactly what a prick I was to him when we were growing up. I know I can't make up for what I did and what my parents did to him. He is my only cousin and he is important to me."

"My problem is that I know all about how you and your family use to treat Harry." Draco leaned forward. "I remember the year your parents sent him a tissue, _a tissue_, for Christmas. It's hard for me to think that it is all in the past."

"Don't, Draco, Dudley isn't his father." Harry turned to Dudley. "I haven't heard from you since that Quidditch match. What have you been doing with yourself?"

"Well, I have a flat with a couple of friends and am in school. I'm studying to become a dental hygienist. It's a two year course and I'm almost finished."

"A dental hygienist? How did you decide to do that?"

"Living with the Grangers while we were in hiding." Dudley shrugged. "Had a lot of discussions with them, they were really nice. When I moved out, Mr. Granger actually let me work doing odd jobs around the office. One day Mrs. Granger gave me an application for the school and I decided, why not? My grades were never going to be good enough to become a dentist, but I like the idea of being a hygienist."

"What does your dad think about it?"

"Don't really care, I doubt he even knows. I have a job and am paying my way through school," Dudley hesitated, "Mum is divorcing him."

Harry choked on his beer. "Really? I didn't think they would ever get divorced."

"His temper was never great, as you know, then after having to be in hiding with, erm, your friends, it changed him and not for the better." Dudley grimaced, "When we got back, well, he never forgot that Mum and I went to Hogwarts for that ceremony. He thought we were contaminated or something... and things got pretty difficult."

Harry didn't want to speculate what Dudley meant by difficult. "Is that why you moved out?"

Dudley nodded. "I thought it would be better for Mum, if I left. Figured that with me not there he would they would get along like they used to do. They didn't. I finally convinced her to move out a couple of months ago." He shifted in his seat, and turned the pint glass in his hand. "I know that she was horrible to you, as bad as Dad was, but she is going through a lot of guilt right now. I think finally getting away from him has made her think back at everything they did to you...we did to you and-"

"Don't, don't even worry about that." Harry thought about the last time he'd seen his aunt leaving Hogwarts, perched uncomfortably in the carriage behind the Thestrals, That she had dared to come, had traveled to Hogwarts to attend the memorial service had been astounding to him. It showed him more than words ever could that she had changed. He didn't want her or Dudley dwelling on things that had happened years earlier. "I honestly hardly give it a thought these days. A lot worse things happened afterwards to help put it all in perspective."

"She can't forgive herself for what she did to you-"

"She shouldn't," Draco said. "Do you realize what a wonder it is that he walked away without permanent damage from how your family? Has she ever apologized? Told Harry she was sor-"

"She tried to, Draco." Harry interrupted. "Or at least came as close as she is ever likely to do in explaining why. I never told either of you, because it happened at Hogwarts. When Dudley and she came for the ceremony." Harry felt his stomach churning just at the thought of the days right after the final showdown with Voldemort. "She didn't apologize, but she made me see things in a different light."

"What could possibly justify-"

"She said that I could send toys flying to me, you know, spontaneous magic, even as a two-year old." Harry glanced around the room to make sure no one was listening to the conversation. "And she knew that meant that I would leave, like my mother had. She always thought Lily had abandoned her, and blamed magic for her leaving. She resented the fact that she couldn't join Lily at Hogwarts. When she was killed, it just proved to her that magic was evil, and when it became obvious that I was magical, I think something snapped in her."

"Mum said all that?"

Harry laughed at the thought of Aunt Petunia talking that much to him. "Not word for word, but I spent a lot of time thinking about what she did say, and I already knew that she'd written to Dumbledore, trying to get admitted to Hogwarts after Lily got her letter…"

Dudley laughed. "Do you remember how Da flipped out when all those letters started coming through the mail slot and down the chimney?"

"I'd known he was mental but that just proved it."

"It was an eye opener for me. Of course I blamed you for it. Not to mention what happened next." Dudley shuddered, "That made me hate you even more than losing my game room."

Draco looked from Harry to Dudley confused, "What happened?"

"Hagrid gave Dudley a pig's tail." Harry grinned at the memory of the great giant pointing his umbrella at 11-year old Dudley, but then felt bad as he looked at Dudley. "It was funny for me, you have to admit."

"I'm sure I deserve it." Dudley shifted uncomfortably on his chair, "That sealed Harry's fate with my father I think. The humiliation of trying to explain why his son had a pig's tail to the doctors."

"Well, I don't think you have to worry about that happening again. Nor should Aunt Petunia, in fact, give me that book, Dudley."

Giving Harry a curious look, Dudley pulled out his copy of _Charlie and the Lost Dragon Eggs_ and handed it to Harry.

Opening to the title page Harry wrote: _Aunt Petunia, Happy Christmas, Harry_

He handed the book to Dudley. "Give this to your mum. I don't want her to worrying about me anymore."

OoOoOoO

Hours later, they were back home, sitting on the sofa in the library. Teddy was already in bed and Andromeda had retreated to her own suite on the floor above them. Draco was reading a book, his legs stretched out and resting on Harry's lap. A log broke and sent a shower of sparks up the chimney as Draco shifted and close his book.

"Did seeing your cousin today upset you? You've been staring at the fire for the last hour, I can practically hear the gears turning in your head like an arithmometer."

Harry smiled at the image as he rubbed Draco's feet. "He didn't upset me, but talking with him made me realize that between all the St. Mungo's trips, the books, and..."

"And me."

Harry nodded in agreement. "And you. I've pushed some other things aside. Important things."

"Like..."

"Like Dumbledore. What he did to me, to us."

Draco gave a shudder, and Harry turned to face him. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said it just like that-"

"When will you ever stop apologizing for things that aren't your fault? And that definitely wasn't your fault, that lies with Dumbledore and myself." Draco sat up and wrapped his arms around Harry, leaning back they lay stretched out along the length of the sofa, legs intertwined as Draco stroked Harry's back. Harry could feel the tension in Draco's body and knew that he was worrying Draco.

"Hermione still has his letter," Draco said, "She's just been waiting for you to ask for it."

"Do you think it's time?" He looked at Draco.

"That it's up to you."

"I think that it's been over four years, we should read the damn thing and get it over with."

"Why now?"

"Talking about Aunt Petunia with Dudley today, I understand much more why she did what she did when I was growing up. I probably will never be able to accept what his father did to me, but Dumbledore, I _need_ to know why... I trusted him. And then what he did...all I was to him was a tool to defeat Voldemort."

"I think he did care about you, but he was afraid and made bad choices because of it, like I did."

"He made bad choices but it wasn't because he was afraid. He wasn't a 16-year old like you, he chose to make them," Harry said, remembering the sensation of his world shattering apart as he'd watched the Pensieve memories being played in the courtroom.

Draco kissed the top of his head. "If you are giving this so much contemplation it probably means that it is time to read the letter."

"The thing is that it won't change anything. I hate to drag up-"

"Maybe not," Draco interrupted, "But at least we can read what he had to say and you can stop thinking about what it _might_ say. His explanation might not be enough but I think that knowing the letter is out there, is holding you back from completely moving past what happened."

Harry didn't respond and was grateful when Draco didn't push him, as he stroked Harry's back with comforting hands. The room was quiet except for the sound of the fire as the flames licked at the logs. It was nights like this that made Harry so grateful for what he had in his life.

"Christmas is just around the corner, no reason it can't wait a little longer," Harry said at last, as he buried his nose against Draco's neck, kissing him gently as Draco's hand drifted southward.

OoOoOoO

_Diggory Center_

Grimacing, Draco examined the marks left after he'd spelled the black paint from his trousers. It was a small price to pay for the breakthrough that young Marcus had made. Working with Draco, Marcus had hesitantly painted a portrait of his family, complete with the father and mother that he'd lost in the war four years earlier. His hand had trembled as he drew his father's black hair and robes, but after he'd finished he had leaned against Draco and let the tears flow. Draco had walked him back to the dormitory where he'd be comforted more by the dorm mother.

Draco went to record his notes from the session at his desk, lying on the top of the neat surface was a letter in Hermione's writing. It must have arrived while he was still in session and the messenger had ignored the word 'urgent' scrawled across the envelope and had put it on his desk rather than deliver it to the classroom. Breaking the seal, he cursed as he scanned the contents. "Harry, you _idiot_."

OoOoOoO

Draco glanced up towards the top floor where their bedroom was located, his heart still pounding from the quick journey from Devon to London. It was twilight and a flickering light shone through the uppermost windows, suggesting that Harry had lit candles or kindled a fire. Not wasting time on speculation he quickly climbed the snow-covered front stoop and unlocked the door.

The ground floor of the house was quiet and dark except for the fairies dancing in the Christmas garlands that were laced up the bannister. Draco knew that Harry would be in their bedroom. Taking the stairs two at a time he raced up the stairs until he reached the top landing. Putting his hand on the doorknob he paused to take a deep breath. There were no sounds on the other side of the door to tell him what to expect. Steadying his nerves, he pushed the door open.

The fire burning in the fireplace was the only source of light, but it was enough for Draco to see Harry curled in a tight ball on their bed. "Harry?" Harry didn't move and Draco walked towards the bed.

Glass crunched under his foot, the bureau mirror had shattered, covering the floor with glass. Harry didn't stir as he stepped carefully around the worse of it and made his way to the bed.

Harry's chest moved in the slow deep breaths of sleep, his lips parted and looking temptingly kissable. Draco reached down and gently took off Harry's glasses. "You always have to be so bloody headstrong," he murmured. Setting the glasses aside, he started to pull up the duvet over him when he saw the sheets of crumpled paper in Harry's fist. After a moment's hesitation, he gently uncurled Harry's fingers from the letter.

Taking off his shoes, he slid gingerly onto the bed, not wanting to wake him. Harry muttered a protest and curled against Draco, throwing one jean-covered leg over Draco's. "You couldn't wait for me to get home, could you?" Draco whispered with a shake of his head at the sleeping figure.

_September 1, 1996, Midnight_.

_Dearest Harry,_

_One hates to begin a letter with a tired cliché but, I fear, I must, for if you are reading this then several events have occurred. I am dead. Tom Riddle is dead, and his Horcruxes have been destroyed, most certainly by you and your most loyal and brave companions, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger._

_It also means that you have survived, Harry, as I fervently hoped that you would, but also that events have occurred that require that Aberforth to reveal my Pensieve memories. You, and perhaps others, have learned about what happened today - most likely, your memory loss. _

_I can only imagine the deep distress and bewilderment you are feeling, Harry, not knowing what memories were stolen from you. I wish I could tell you in person what has happened, but this letter must serve as a poor substitute._

_The memories were removed using a spell called Amoris Delere. It is Dark Magic of the worst kind, used centuries ago by Pureblood families. Unlike a simple Obliviate that erases all memories from a short period of time, the spell has removed nearly two years of very specific memories from the very fabric of your memory._

_I hasten to say that the caster did so not to harm you, but to protect you, to try and save you from Lord Voldemort and the insidious connection he has to your inner thoughts. This connection, as you have already learned, is what compelled you to go to the Ministry of Magic last spring._

_I ask you to take a deep breath and prepare yourself for all though you are brave, Harry, I fear the truths I'm about to reveal will be difficult for you to face, but I owe it to you to inform you myself, of what happened today, before you watch the Pensieve memories._

_Specifically, Harry, the memories were erased to prevent Lord Voldemort from using your relationship with Draco Malfoy as a tool against you. Not the relationship that you have now with Draco, that of rivals, but a far different one. I will explain, but let me first say that this letter should serve as a complete and truthful telling of the crimes that I, and others, have committed against you tonight. I write it, and provide the memories, so that there can be a clear understanding of what has occurred._

_I must tread delicately, as I have no way to anticipate the circumstances that will have required Aberforth to reveal this final secret that I have concealed from you. I readily admit that I am torn as to whether it would be better to keep the secret or to have it known, but I have no desire for the innocent to go to Azkaban for deeds that they were forced to commit and because you, Harry, have the right to know._

_I shall start at the beginning._

_As headmaster of this magical institution I am granted, through the legacy of the Founders, the ability to see far more that occurs within these walls than what is merely in front of my eyes. During my years here I fear that I came to see this ability not as any type of gift but a cursed necessity in order to keep the students and school safe._

_As difficult as having these insights about the happenings in Hogwarts has been, I may honestly say, nothing has given me more joy than watching the tentative friendship between you and Draco evolve during your fourth year. I realize you are probably protesting the idea of this as you read it - but this is the truth. _

_Harry, all you remember now of Draco Malfoy is the very carefully orchestrated masquerade that you and Draco presented to your classmates, friends, and instructors. This is because the true nature of relationship was erased by the spell. _

_I've known since his first year at Hogwarts that Draco was using the old Quidditch locker rooms as a personal retreat, and had hoped that he would find the space a sanctuary and allow his thoughts to grow past those of his father's. I'll admit to great surprise when I realized at the start of fourth year that Draco had invited you and Cedric Diggory to share his secret._

_I felt nothing but happiness for you both when I sensed that somehow you had found even more in common and your friendship evolved into something more. You and Draco became very close. If I were to have to choose a word to describe your relationship with Draco it would be: lovers. _

_I viewed your relationship with great happiness and relief, for it was not just the joy of witnessing, from however great a distance, young love but because I knew that to defeat Voldemort, you would need the love of another. I was confident that your mother's sacrifice would continue to protect you from Lord Voldemort's darkest powers but to defeat him it would take something more and when I realized that you and Draco had found each other I knew that this could be what was needed to turn the tides in our favor._

_Following the death of Cedric I had hoped that you and Draco would take me into your confidence. When you did not, I hesitated, not wanting to reveal what I knew, lest it make you feel uneasy. I waited throughout your fifth year and even after the death of Sirius. I waited too long._

_I had already begun my quest for the Horcruxes, a search that distracted me from seeing the clues which could have allowed me to prevent what happened to Draco this last summer._

_To my great failing, I became enraptured once again by the Hallows. As you know by now, I am no stronger than anyone else. I fell victim to the very same weaknesses of many wizards before me. To be holding the Resurrection Stone was more intoxicating than Amortentia..._

_That was my fatal mistake. That moment of weakness, when I slipped the cursed ring onto my finger and unwittingly started the final ticks of the clock._

_I failed you and Draco. Had I not succumb to my base-weaknesses I would have not spent the summer battling the curse. Had I had my full strength, I would have followed through with my intentions to make sure that Draco was safe. He was far from safe. Lord Voldemort, has forced him to the most untenable position -holding Draco's love for his mother and you hostage against him- forcing the Dark Mark upon him. Draco sought to end his own life so that he could not be used as a pawn, but Professor Snape offered a different solution in hopes to save both you and Draco - Amoris Delere._

_This spell, this terrible spell, is such dangerous magic that I fear for you, Harry._

_The moment I saw you enter the Great Hall tonight I knew there was something altered. It only took a moment of conversation to recognize how completely your memories had been tampered with, your relationship with Draco had been erased._

_I was left with a difficult decision, for I believe, with all my cursed soul, that you will require more than the protection of your mother's love, as strong as that is, to defeat Voldemort. With your love for Draco gone, and time too short to rekindle that flame. I was forced to follow the only path left - to assist you in falling in love with someone else._

_This path set the question remained, who should be your new partner. I suspected who would be most suitable but I made young Draco be the one to name her. I did this, not to punish him, but to help ease his torment. The burden that Voldemort has punished him with, the killing of me, is nothing compared to the grief he is suffering tonight. I fear that this and his guilt at having to be forced into such an action may destroy him._

_So I made him be the one to choose, and in doing so, sought to give him a sentence for the crime he had committed against you - not that he needed to be punished in my eyes, but in his own. Draco is going to feel great guilt at what he has done. I hope, as he is forced to watch you fall in love with another, that he will consider it a suitable punishment for his crime and will not attempt any additional acts of self-harm._

_I do not know, of course, if Draco shall survive, for the dangers he faces from both sides are great. If he has not, you will be at a loss to understand what was taken from you. If he has survived, it is my dearest hope that you will open your mind, if not your heart, to listen to what he has to say. He was forced into an untenable situation and took the only route that could save you. He sought to save you, Harry. Remember this: Draco's love for you is great, his sacrifice tonight even greater._

_I will not presume to direct you to trust us, for we have wronged you greatly, but I shall request you remember that these years of fighting Voldemort have forced us all into unwilling roles._

_I stray from the point - by now you have deducted that Ginevra Weasley was selected to be the subject of your love. The task remains is how to make a homosexual boy fall in love with a girl whom he considers only the little sister of his best friend._

_That duty has fallen on me._

_Tonight I gave you a potion that will suppress your own natural preference. This potion will be easy enough to provide to you at Hogwarts, and it is my hope that this is long enough time but I am prepared to persuade others to continue with the dosing of the potions after I am gone. Professor Snape is preparing the love potion that will provide your affection for Ginevra. Rest assured, that the longevity of the potions is limited, as they fade from your system, your own nature will take over, if it hasn't already._

_Finally, in order to make you and your friends to overlook your new heterosexuality and accept your interest in Ginevra, I have employed a trust charm on you, Ron, and Hermione, to prevent your best friends from paying heed to changes in your previous behavior._

_While I regret the actions I have had to take tonight, I am committed to them. I shall not waste ink asking for forgiveness, I have no such expectation, because my betrayal is so great. I wish I could have served you better, Harry._

_You are a mere sixteen years old, yet you are as old as Tom Riddle was when he sought to learn about Horcruxes. It shall have to suffice and I know that you are up to the task. I have spent many an hour debating whether or not to reveal to you the final piece of the puzzle to defeating, or let you figure it out on your own. I will not. And by the time you read this, you will be free of the piece of Tom Riddle's soul that has resided within you for so long._

_It is odd after all these years to know that my time can be measured in mere months and days. It had been my hope that there would be so much more time to guide you for the difficult tasks that are ahead. In my vanity, I had thought that I could ease your burden by finding the Horcruxes. I have failed. In my remaining days I shall seek to show you the path that you must follow to find them._

_Snape has suggested that I have been raising you like a pig for the slaughter. And I fear that you may think so, but, no, Harry, there was simply no way to tell a young man of few years that he is required to sacrifice himself so that he and the Wizarding world can survive. This decision can only come from you. I'll likely never know the circumstances in which you make it. But you did, or you would not be reading this letter, and you survived and are at last free._

_You have survived the destruction of the final Horcrux. I am confident that you will similarly endure and overcome the shock that this letter has given you. I am sure that you will be angry, your temper is one of the things I've loved about you, Harry. So passionate. You hold nothing back. It is when you are angry I can feel the full potential of your magic, the magic you have not yet even begun to realize or harness, but you will, dear boy, you will._

_By now you will have more questions than answers. I wish there could be a way to magically restore the memories destroyed, but even with the power of Magic, that will not be possible. If you will permit, I will offer my suggestions. I'm hopeful that if you have not yet incendio'd this letter you will at least read them._

_First, watch the memory that Aberforth has given you along with the letter; it will confirm what I have told you._

_Second, go to Gringotts and request to speak to one Simon Ward. A fine Ravenclaw and Cedric Diggory's boyfriend at the time of his death. I believe that he will be able to confirm that you and Draco were friends, and certainly will be able to tell you about your friendship with Cedric._

_Third, it is my dearest hope that Draco has survived the war. If he has, I suspect you will not be willing to go to him, and he may not be willing to reveal the truth, for fear of hurting you more. Once he knows that you know, I hope he will be willing to help. Talk to him, Harry. Rage at him, if you must, but listen to what he has to say._

_Finally, although I know your disdain of Healers, seek help from the spell Healers at St. Mungo's. Amoris Delere is not a spell to be trifled it, and you must be cautious so that permanent damage is not done to you. They will also be able to remove the trust charm from yourself and your friends._

_I know this is inadequate advice in the scope of what has happened to you. This ongoing fight against Lord Voldemort has required great sacrifices. Would that I could have saved you and Draco from this one, I would have._

_I must close this letter, having worn through three of the dreaded Quick-Quotes Quills as my cursed hand was not up to the task of writing what needed to be said. The hour is late, or I should say, early, for I see the crimson glow of the sunrise lighting my chamber walls and another school year begins, one that I shall not live to see to the end._

_Your humble servant,_

_Albus Dumbledore._

"What do you think?" Draco started at the sound of Harry's voice and lowered the letter to see Harry looking at him, his head still resting on the pillow.

"How long have you been awake?" Draco asked as he stretched to set the letter down on the nightstand. He felt Harry shrug as he turned back to lay facing Harry, putting his arm on Harry's waist, pulling him closer. Harry gave a sigh and relaxed against the touch.

"You were on page three or four, I think."

"You broke the mirror."

"Yeah...flash of wild magic, meant to fix it but fell asleep, I guess." Harry rubbed a hand over his face, a red crease on his cheek from the pillow. "I'll clean it-"

"I'm not worried about the mirror, I'm worried about you. Are you okay?"

Harry looked bleakly at Draco, and for a moment Draco could see the fifteen year old Harry in his face. How different their lives might have been if they'd gone to Dumbledore during their fourth or fifth year. Harry's memory of their earlier relationship wouldn't be a magical plaster of Draco's own memories. Then again, there is no telling if they would still be alive if they'd gone to Dumbledore and Draco had dared to turn his back to his father. Harry squeezed Draco's hand tightly as if knowing what he was thinking.

"Honestly, no. He knew. Dumbledore, he knew about us from the beginning and he still...can't believe what he said about why he made you be the one to choose Ginny."

"The man should have been sorted into Slytherin." Draco swallowed against his dry mouth, as he thought back to that horrible night. It was still impossible to think of that night without remembering the grief of what he'd done to Harry.

"It was done to both of us. I know how hard it was for you when the love potion started working and I was with Ginny." Draco could feel Harry's muscles tensing under his hand. "How can you be so calm about it?"

"It's long gone, if I hadn't accepted it, it would have destroyed me. For you, it is rawer-"

"But I thought I was past it all. Since we've finished the treatment, I really thought that stupid shit like wild magic wouldn't happen again." Harry looked over at where the mirror pieces were casting flickering shadows on the wall from the fire in the fireplace. "He left me sweets, I told you that right? He gave me a bag of sweets that had the love potion in them."

"I know." Draco slowly combed his fingers through Harry's hair, grateful that it had grown back after Harry had rashly cut it off in the midst of the summer heat wave a few months earlier. "To keep you under the influence of the potion."

"What if I'd slept with Ginny, or even gotten her pregnant?" Harry shivered and Draco reached for the comforter that was folded at the end of the bed and pulled it over them both. "Anything could have happened. He had no right-"

"None of that happened. What choice did he have? He knew he was dying and wanted to do whatever he could to help you defeat Voldemort. Remember, he meant for you to read this letter before seeing the memories. If you'd read it first, before...before my trial and seeing the wand memories, it wouldn't have been such a dreadful shock- still a shock, but not nearly as horrific as what happened to you that day in front of the Wizengamot."

"But still, to just write a letter. He should have warned me. Said something to me to give me some warning-"

"We can't second guess now, he wrote in the letter to help you, and to set you on the path to learn more about us. He told you about Simon, he actually tells you to go to him."

"He said to go to you, too. How would that have gone? Me knocking on the door, waving his letter." Harry smiled for the first time, "I was blind with rage back then, I probably would've started with a Cruciatus curse before you could even say anything."

"At the very least, but," Draco motioned towards where the letter lay on the nightstand. "I think that the most important thing about the letter is that it proves that he cared enough about you to write that letter. You _weren't_ just a tool in his war against Voldemort-"

"He knew the whole time we were together. Any day he could have pulled us aside and told us—"

"And, any of those days we could have decided to go to him, to seek his help. We can't blame him for not doing what we couldn't do ourselves." Draco ran his fingers along Harry's jaw, feeling the tightening of the muscles under his fingertips. "One thing I want to know is why did you read the letter alone? Why didn't you wait for me to get home?"

Harry turned to look towards the fire and Draco grasped Harry's chin, turning his head so Harry couldn't avoid him. "Last night you said that you were going to wait until after Christmas."

"I know, I know, it's just..." Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes and Draco waited for him to collect his thoughts. He shifted so that his legs lay against the length of Harry's, needing the reassurance of Harry's body against his own. Harry reached for Draco's hand, tracing the back of his fingers. "I was moping about it all morning, and then I went to meet George for lunch and overheard some people at the booth behind us talking about me. How I was damaged. Mental."

His voice was strained and where he would have pulled away Draco tightened his arm around his waist, keeping him close. "I got mad, I am sick of this thing hanging over me. I just want it done with, so I ended up going straight to Hermione to get the letter."

"Hardly," Draco said with a laugh at the thought of anyone thinking Harry was weak. "It's no one else's business but yours and mine. Those people, they had no clue who you are other than your name and face. The letter has been weighing on you for a long time, and I knew when you were ready, you'd read it. I just wanted to be with you when you did."

The corner of Harry's mouth dimpled as he grimaced. "I know, I was just going to get it from Hermione and then wait for you to get home; then the letter was sitting on the bureau and I got mad because I was scared of the stupid thing. Scared of a letter from someone who's been dead for years."

"I told you yesterday, it wasn't and still isn't stupid, what you are going through," Draco took a deep breath, trying to choose his words carefully. "I'm not so naive as to think that now that we are together again, and your memory fabric is stable, that you don't have dark moments, I have them too, I don't want you to block me out though, the _Delere_ is a part of us, we're in this together. That letter isn't just the words on the page, it is the remembering of all the things that brought us together the first time, and that tore us apart."

Draco ran his fingers over the gold and silver woven chain that lay against the hollow at the base of Harry's throat. He could still remember the hesitation he'd felt sending the owl for the engraving on the back of the chain. Harry hadn't taken the chain off since the day that Draco had given it back to him, following the memory session of the first time he'd given it to Harry. "One love."

"Two souls," Harry said, pressing his hand on top of Draco's. Draco could feel the Harry's heart beating against the palm on his hand, the warm metal of the chain against Harry's skin. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against Harry's mouth. They lay together, kissing without urgency, the quiet intimacy of knowing that they had all night. The room was completely dark except for the glow cast by the fire. Harry's profile was silhouetted in the firelight; he slipped his arms around Draco's waist as Draco kissed Harry's jawline, loving the roughness of the stubble against his lips.

"Too many clothes," Harry whispered, tugging up on Draco's shirt.

"Hmmm…" Draco murmured back, shifting so that he lay on top of Harry, his arms supporting his weight as their legs intertwined. "We should do this more often."

"Didn't realize that you'd been feeling neglected." Harry said, as he tightened his arms, pulling Draco towards him.

"Kissing, you fool." Draco kissed him, feeling the curve of Harry's smile against his lips. "It's how it all began, seemed like hours of just snogging, I thought I'd go crazy for needing more."

"But afraid of what more would signify," Harry said knowingly. Harry's memories of those early kisses were all from Draco's own memories and Draco had to suppress the pang that that caused him. "Fortunately, we don't have that problem now."

The fire was casting a reddish glow across the bed as Draco trailed kisses along Harry's jaw and neck and Harry arched into his touch, his fingers halting their mission to remove Draco's shirt as Draco kissed him. Harry's eyes flared with need as Draco pressed their groins together, their mutual need evident.

Draco took his hands and lifted Harry' arms above his head. "Let me take care of you," he whispered. Harry's eyes sparkled with amusement but he didn't protest as Draco wrapped his fingers around the iron bars of the headboard. Draco started to unbutton Harry's shirt, his fingers moving slowly from one button to the next.

Harry's shirt fell open, revealing the twisted and healed flesh of the scars on his abdomen and chest. He slid his hands along the scars, feeling the warmth of the scarred flesh under his fingertips. His lips trailing along the path of his fingers. He felt the intake of air as Harry gasped when Draco nipped at a sensitive spot just along the edge of his rib cage.

"Merlin, please…"

Draco smiled at the _need_ in Harry's plead and hummed his lips against the line of dark hair that led down from Harry's navel as he carefully...slowly...undid the buttons of his jeans, Harry tightened his abdomen muscles taut as Draco slid his fingers along the closure, the denim fabric was worn soft and Draco closed his eyes and using lips and touch alone, lost himself in the need - teasing, touching, _loving_ Harry. Harry murmured curses as he fought to keep control.

There was a flash of light and Draco jerked back as the light in the room increased tenfold. The fire had roared to life, the flames shooting up the floo. Draco gave a laugh and looked back at Harry whose hands were still gripping the headboard.

His face silhouetted by the firelight, Harry's green eyes met Draco's and Draco couldn't hold back a groan of his own as Harry growled, "Your shirt-off."

Draco sat up, moving forward until he straddled Harry's hips, rubbing against him teasingly. "Hmmm. You think a burst of wandless and I'll just do whatever you say?" he asked, even as he started to unbutton it. He took it off and tossed it to the side. Harry motioned with his chin.

"The rest, too."

With a smiling shake of his head, Draco started a teasing slide of his hand along his chest, while his other hand palmed himself through the fabric of his trouser. His head thrown back in pleasure, he watched Harry through half-closed eyes. Harry didn't know where to look, his eyes flicked from Draco's left hand to his right as it traced a path along the long scars on his chest. Draco teased his nipples until Harry licked his lips, his breath coming in pants as he tried to thrust his hips up, but the weight of Draco held him down. A moan escaped Harry as Draco continued to rub himself with his other hand.

Harry clenched the iron bars tighter but didn't let go of them as Draco rose up on his knees and undid the top button, easing his zipper down, he took his time as he watched Harry's eyes following the slow movement of his hand.

"You're planning on killing me, death by desire, that's your revenge on me, isn't it?" The huskiness in Harry's voice made Draco unsure how much longer he could continue to torment them both. He leaned forward and put his hands on either side of Harry's head, bending his elbows he lowered himself until his face was mere inches from Harry's.

Harry lifted his head to kiss him but Draco pulled back. "I don't think so, the time for kissing has passed, don't you think?" he murmured just out of reach. He climbed off the bed and quickly stripped off his trousers and pants. The firelight flickered gold and red over his skin as he took his time and folded his clothes, taking care to neatly place them on the chest at the end of the bed before climbing back on the bed. Kneeling next to Harry, Draco put his hands on the waistband to take them off and Harry immediately lifted his hips so Draco could slide them off.

Harry was stretched out, naked except for his open shirt, black hair a mess against the white sheets, his eyes dark with need as he looked at Draco, his chest heaving with as he breathed hard, his muscles taut from his arms being stretched above his head. Draco trailed a finger down Harry's chest, goosebumps covered Harry's skin and Harry trembled at his touch. "Chilly, isn't it? Might want to give that fire another rip to heat things up."

Harry growled and then Draco gave a shiver of his own as he felt a wave of Harry's magic wash over him and the fire flamed up again. Draco reached for the flask of sandlewood oil on the nightstand table. Straddling Harry, he poured the oil into the palm of his hand, carelessly letting it spill onto Harry's abdomen. Harry gasped and arched his back as the cold oil hit his skin. "Bastard."

"I assure you, I'm not." Draco grinned at him, "My parents were bound in matrimony in front of hundreds."

"I doubt-" Harry stopped talking as Draco slid one oil-covered hand behind himself. "Oh, fuck."

"Don't act surprised, I'm pretty sure even a Gryffindor like yourself could've figured out where this was going at last ten minutes ago." Draco worked himself open, knowing Harry was watching every movement of his arm, his body.

"With all your gadding about I thought maybe you'd want to take a break for tea."

"Hardly think you are in a position to complain." Draco said, as he rubbed his free hand in the remaining oil on Harry's skin, releasing the scent of the sweet woody fragrance as he started to stroke him with it. Not able to wait any longer, Draco moved forward and with eyes locked on Harry's, he started to sink down on him, giving a gasp of his own. He had to close his eyes, biting his lip and casting his head back, as his body adjusted to the stretch.

"You're so bloody beautiful." He heard Harry say, and then Harry's hands were on him, holding him steady as Harry's hips flexed to meet Draco. They became lost in the rhythm, the give and the take. Both knowing what the other liked and needed. Harry gripped his hips tighter, fighting for control until Draco pushed him to the edge. Draco leaned forward, putting his weight on his outstretched arm, Harry met him halfway and Draco gave a hum of pleasure as their lips met. Draco pulled Harry to him, his fingers buried in Harry's thick black hair as he rocked against him, as Harry kissed his lips, his throat, his jawline.

It was a dance they'd done hundreds of times before, but the miracle of having Harry to hold and love never failed to humble Draco. He'd known the crippling pain of a life without him and the gift of being able to hold Harry, was one he never took for granted. He heard Harry cry out and grip him tighter, Draco let himself go at last, tumbling over the edge with him.

They fell back against the pillows, Draco's leg muscles burning from the exertion while the rest of him was already half-asleep. He felt Harry summoning the bedcoverings and he slipped into the darkness, conscious only of the stroke of Harry's hand on his back.

OoOoOoO

Teddy was flying around the sitting room on his toy broom. His hair was a deep shade of purple and he was laughing with delight as the fairies from the Christmas tree chased after him, creating a cometlike effect of light and glitter.

Harry had cast a cushioning charm over the floor and walls and had his wand at the ready in case Teddy should fall, but that didn't stop him from wincing each time the four-year old flew past the Christmas tree that filled the far corner of the room, or skimmed too close to the walls.

Andromeda and Narcissa had transformed the whole house for Christmas but it was this room that Harry loved the best. The smiling waving photographs of his parents, Remus, Tonks, and Ted on the mantle were nestled amongst the garlands of fresh evergreen, bright bows of gold and silver gleamed against the green. More garlands hung above the windows and candles had been placed in every window, their flickering light chasing away the darkness of the long nights.

Harry saw Draco standing in the doorway, his cheeks bright pink from the cold, "I take it Andromeda isn't home?" Draco said as he took in the scene.

"She's up in her room, wrapping presents." Harry risked another quick glance at Draco, "I thought I'd let Teddy work off some energy, since we couldn't go to the park." Sleeting rain was battering the windows, the sidewalks slick with ice.

"The weather is just going to worse, the Center grounds are a complete ice rink. Thought I'd break my neck just walking to the gate to leave."

"Draco, watch me!" Teddy called out and before they could shout 'stop', Teddy flew in a loop, his feet dragging along the ceiling as he barely cleared it before righting himself and skidding to a toppling stop on the carpet at their feet.

"Right, young man. That is enough of that," Harry said as sternly as he could as Draco hid his laughter behind his hand. "How exactly do you expect me to explain the marks on the ceiling to your grandmother?"

Teddy's lower lip trembled as he looked up at the two large scuff marks that cut across the ceiling, "You could use your wand, like you did when you broke Draco's favorite tea mug."

"Teddy!" Harry could hardly hold back the laughter, and Draco was no help: he'd turned towards the wall, his shoulders shaking. "Time for your bath. Now. Kreacher is waiting for you upstairs."

Teddy, knowing a good escape when he heard it, cheerfully hugged them both and ran out the door, the beloved broom trailing behind him. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco as they watched him head for the stairs. Teddy stopped at the base of the stairs, he had his leg over the broom before he turning back to see if he was being watched. Harry gave a firm shake of his head and Teddy dejectedly dismounted and trudged up the stairs.

"He's going to be a first year Seeker, just like his godfather," Draco murmured in his ear.

"Don't even go there, I think Andromeda will snap my wand if he is."

Draco said as he turned in Harry's arms. "I know you don't like me asking, but how do you feel about things today?"

Harry resisted the urge to say the automatic 'fine' that he knew Draco hated. "Better, I think, not worse, in any case."

"Have you thought more about going to talk to his portrait?" They'd been woken in the middle of the night by the sounds of storm, and had ended up talking in the dark, their limbs still entwined together. Draco had brought up the idea of traveling to Hogwarts so that Harry could talk to Dumbledore's portrait.

"I did, and I don't want to, there isn't any point. His portrait can't say any more than what Dumbledore wrote in the letter. And, when it comes down to it, it doesn't matter, I can accept that he did what thought was best."

"And you are okay with that?"

"I am. I really am. We'll never know what would've happened if he'd chosen differently, or any of us had made different choices, but it is useless to speculate. We are where we are supposed to be. I'm glad we read the letter. I know now that he was torn by the decision and even if he felt he didn't have a choice, he still regretted it, and that is enough. And he even did what he could in the letter to try and make sure that you weren't held responsible, and even to encourage me to talk to you, I think it showed he cared about both of us."

"I think he did so to, even though I didn't at the time that it happened. I'm glad you read it, that we don't have it hanging over us anymore," Draco said as he tightened his arms around Harry's waist. They stood just holding each other, the only sounds in the room was the spattering of rain against the window and the ticking of the clock.

He stepped back when he felt Draco pull out his wand. Draco pointed it across the room and there was a soft _snick_ from the needle on the record player that stood in its place of honor on the sideboard.

Harry smiled as familiar opening notes filled the room. Draco gave another flick and the sconces dimmed so that the only light came from the fairies flitting amongst the branches of the Christmas tree and the flickering candles on the window sills. With a hum of pleasure, Harry followed Draco's lead as he began to dance, Draco holding Harry so close that he could feel Draco's heart beating against his own. Harry nuzzled his nose into the nape of Draco's neck, loving the scent of Draco's lemony aftershave mingled with the lingering scent of sandlewood.

Draco's hand pressed against the small of his back, and his lips brushed kisses against his hair. Harry closed his eyes as they moved slowly to the music, Draco's body, warm and familiar, against his own. Memories of their dances in the old Quidditch locker room flowed through him. The replaced memories had long ago stopped being just Draco's, they were their memories.

OoOoOoO

_You know I can't let you slide through my hands._

_Wild Horses couldn't drag me away,_

_Wild, wild horses, couldn't drag me away._


End file.
